Finding Your Place

Finding Her Place

Mum, what are you doing?! I could barely keep from crying as I watched my mother hurl my simple belongings from the wardrobe. My favourite red-and-white polka dot dress landed on the carpet, instantly attracting my younger brothers attention. He tottered over, grabbed the sash and stuffed it into his mouth. Dont, Paulie! Give it here!

Sentimental over a rag! Mum snapped, tossing my jeans into the growing heap on the floor, then slammed the wardrobe shut. Get out.

But where am I supposed to go, Mum? At this time of night? Whats wrong with you?

Ill do as I please! Its my house and you dont belong here anymore.

But what about me? Isnt this my home, too?

No, it isnt! Nothing here really belongs to you, sweetheart. Nothing! Now stop giving me grief. My life is only just getting back on track, and I wont have you wrecking it again!

Mum, what exactly am I ruining?

Oh, come off it! Whos been flirting with Michael all this time? Unless it was you?

Mum! My yell startled Paulie so much he burst into frightened sobs. Do you even hear yourself?!

Loud and clear! Enough! Ive said my piece. Youve got five minutes to leave.

She kicked the door and stormed out, leaving me trembling, numb with shock. Had I really just been thrown out? My mind wouldnt work; my thoughts fluttered, impossible to catch hold of. Through the door, Pauls wailing grew louder. Instinctively, I moved toward him. Calming him down, distracting himthis had fallen to me ever since Mum remarried and everything had changed. Her new husband couldnt stand Pauls cries and, truthfully, just about anything to do with children. Id grown up in warmth and affection, with a family that always looked out for me. Now, I simply couldnt recognise Mum any more. Instead of comforting her son, she handed him over to me and disappeared to her husband.

Youre old enough now, Emily. Help out!

Barely a year or two ago, Id been their precious little girl, spoiled and protected. Now, I was a cast-off, as shed taken to calling me. Everything in our family had changed too fast for me to keep up.

It started when Dad died suddenly, far too young, after a heart attack. It stung bitterlyhe might have been saved if just one person at that bus stop had cared enough to ask if he was alright. But people hurried by, barely glancing at the well-dressed man lying on the November pavement. By the time someone realised, it was too late.

Ill never forget how Mum reacted. She froze, silent and distant, while I sobbed and pleaded for her to come back to us. Mum kept her tears locked away, and soon she shut herself off, leaving me totally alone.

We had no extended family. Old friends were just acquaintances now, showing up for major holidays, and then vanishing again for months. My parents had always insisted: our family was tight. We had each other and needed nothing else. I used to believe itdetesting visitors when I was small. Why have them when we were so happy together?

That belief changed when I started primary school. With more girls than boys in our class, I ended up sharing a desk with a tiny, lively girl called Daisy. Her jet-black plaits, almost as thick as my wrist, made her carry herself with such prideI so envied them! My curls, which Mum could never tame however hard she tried, earned me the class nickname of Dandelion.

It was only after days of curiosity that I managed to touch one of Daisys braids, when she flicked them behind her crossly and muttered, Im sick of these! Ill cut them off, even if Mum tells me off.

Ooh, dont! I whispered, stroking the glossy hair as it slid over her chair back. Theyre gorgeous.

That was the beginning of our friendship. Daisy came from the enormous Marshall family, four daughters and three sons, living in a rambling old house out on the edge of town. The first time I visited, the sheer number of grown-ups, children, relatives and pets all crowded together overwhelmed me. I tried to get my head around Daisys family tree but soon gave up. What I did know was that Mrs. Marshall welcomed every guest with a hearty meal and endless kindness. Daisys older brother would help us with our maths homework, while her big sister took me under her wing in the kitchen. Even the youngest girls could whip up pastry and bake tarts, whereas my own mum barely let me near the cooker, declaring I was too young.

Through Daisys household, I came to understand that family and friends werent something to dread. And in time, Id also learn that people could grow distant, even strangers, though that was a lesson for later. At every family celebration in Daisys houseso many of them!shed end up with piles of presents, not just for her birthday, but for any occasion. Id stare, amazed.

But its not even your birthday, Daisy! I exclaimed once as she twirled in a new cardigan.

So what? Why wait for a special day to spoil someone you love? Just wait till Christmas! Then youll see real presents! Daisy laughed, and I couldnt help but join her.

My mother never approved of this friendship. If shed known what Daisys house was like, shed have forbidden me from visiting altogether. Luckily, Mum worked late, so I could dash home after school just long enough for a quick bowl of soup, then bolt to the Marshalls, where I was always greeted with warmth, a slice of tart, and plenty of laughter. I clung to those visitsthere, I was wanted.

When my dad died, it was Daisys family who rushed to help, sending her older brothers round with money and help for all the funeral paperwork, arranging things when Mum was too shocked even to step out of her room. Daisy cried with me, kneading dough in the kitchen while tears dripped into the pastry; she made so many pies that the Marshalls fridge overflowed and the neighbours had to help store them.

The day after the funeral, Daisys brothers didnt leave us alone for a minute, making sure everything was sorted. Daisy explained, Youre like family to us, Em. With your dad gone, its our job now.

Six months later, Daisy was married offI was speechless. What are you doing? You wanted to be a doctor, not a wife! Dont you want to study anymore?

I will, she said, folding her wedding veil. Dads agreed with my fiancés family; Ill keep studying.

I was baffled. But why rush into marriage if youre not desperately in love?

She shrugged, almost amused. Thats the way its done in our familyparents decide, we follow. They wouldnt choose someone bad for me.

Daisy believed fiercely in her family. Even as I worried, she reassured me, If things ever get tough, come to me. Well figure it out.

By then, my mother had met Michael and given birth to Paulie, growing distant and often barely noticing when I returned from college. I couldnt explain to Daisy that Michael lurked in the hallway, and Mum had grown sharp, harsh, especially after the baby came. I kept my room door locked, which Mum hated, and often had to care for Paulie deep into the night, even when college started early the next day. I loved my brother and wanted to help, but working nights at the hospital gave me some respite from home, and talk began about me fainting during lectures from exhaustion.

After Daisy left with her husband, her absence stung. At home, things finally exploded with Mumyears of tension, at last unleashed.

It was a neighbours remark that seemed to tip the balance. Your children are so beautiful, Natalie. Such a shame their dad didnt live to see them grown. Emilyll be a stunning bride one day! She works so hard; isnt it time she thought of herself?

That day, Mum threw me out. Now, as I shoved clothes into a tattered bag, I frantically wondered: Where could I go? Where was my place? There was Daisy, but she was miles away, expecting her first child, and the last thing I wanted to do was worry her.

I wiped my tears, snatched Dads old photo from the desk, stuffed it into my bag, and took a bracing breath. Perhaps this was for the best. Id always felt like an outsider here lately. Let Mum try her new life without me.

In the kitchen, the telly blared and Mum clattered dishes about furiously. I hovered in the hallway, unsure if anything else could even be said. Could I forgive her after this? Noenough was enough. Wed once been close, but that was over. I wasnt welcome.

Outside, the autumn air bit through my scarf, a gift from Daisy last Christmas. The town centre felt deserted, save for a stray dog nosing around the bus stop and the odd late-night passer-by. I settled onto a bench with my holdall, burying cold hands in my coat pockets.

A car pulled up beside me. I tensedno telling who it might be out this late.

Emily?

Ethan!

Relief flooded me. It was Daisys eldest brother, the one whod helped us at the funeral years back.

What on earth are you doing here at this time, with your bags? Are you heading to work?

Not really… Well, the hospital. Thats where I need to goyes.

He gave me an odd look. Somethings not right. Tell me the truthwhats happened?

Without meaning to, it all poured outmy rows with Mum, Michael, how I had nowhere left to go.

Right, was all Ethan said, quietly. Hop in. Im not taking you to the hospital tonight.

The city whipped past as we drove, both silent. I could have curled up and sleptI felt safe for the first time in months. But soon, I realised we werent headed for the ward.

Ethan, where are we going?

Youre not sleeping at work. Thats no plan, is it? Stay with me for a while.

He parked at a tall block of flats in a peaceful part of town, let the security gate close behind us, and led me up to the third floor. He rang the bell several times, then, at length, the door swung open to reveal a stately older woman.

Grandma!

Ethan, you could have called ahead! Now, who have you got with you? She peered at me and then broke into a wide grin. Youre Emily, Daisys friend! Come in, love. Dont be shyyoure family here.

And as I crossed the threshold, I was wrapped in warmthmarble hallway, crystal chandeliers sparkling above, and a faint scent of bread baking. Quickly, as Ethan left, her large, comforting arms enveloped me, and for the first time in days, I wept.

There, there, my dear child, whats happened? Wheres your mother? Surely you cant be alone at your age! Her name was Martha, she told me, and as she poured me bitter black coffee in her enormous kitchen, I tried to explain.

She listened. Then she told me her own storyhow her childhood home had been torn from her family in the war, how shed raised younger siblings after tragedy, always watched over by neighbours and distant relatives, refusing to let grief destroy her.

Dont keep hold of your pain, Emily. Youve got to let gootherwise itll poison you. It will stop you from seeing anything bright and good again. She patted my hand. Here, with me, youre safe. Stay as long as you need, until you find your own place, your real home.

She kept her word. Within two years, I could bake, cook, and run a whole household. Daisy returned for a visit, and after eating three sausage rolls, declared, Yours are better than mine! Whats your secret?

All thanks to Martha, I laughed.

Just then, Martha grew unusually serious. You havent told your friend yet, have you?

Daisy frowned. Told me whats going on, Emily?

I sighed. Mums illquite seriously. Ive been working at the hospital and… I just couldnt bring myself to visit her.

What? You cant put it offgo and see her now! Or you may never forgive yourself.

I knew she was right. Id been angry so long, but when I finally went to Mum, the years of hurt began to recede. Turned out, Michael had abandoned her as soon as her illness became serious, and left Paulie, toonow in care because I had no place of my own and couldnt raise him without the paperwork.

With Martha and Daisys help, I made it through the bureaucracy. I nursed Mum in her final weeks and, when the moment came, forgave her. In her pain and regret, I saw not the mother who banished me, but the gentle woman who once brought sun-bright cherries and laughter to my childhood.

Let it go, Emily, Martha had said. Forgiving isnt for the one who wronged youits for you, so you can move on.

A week later, hand in hand with Paulie, I led him up the stairs to our little flat.

Are we home now, Em? Is this really our home? he asked, wide-eyed.

Yes, little brother. This is our place now. We belong here.

And at last, I felt it was true: the right people, the right time, and finallyId found my place.